I am a passing ship, floating on calm waters, slowly disappearing into the horizon. Perhaps, I’ve carried you a time or two, held your hand, smiled gently, filling the spaces inside of you that are often vacuous.
I am a mystery and riddle that remains eternally unsolved and the layers of cyclic history that is often left unresolved, left here to unravel over time, slowly.
I’m the life that has slipped into skin, endlessly discovering where I begin and end, using my senses to make sense of this space and sojourn.
I’d like to stay, but it was never designed that way.
I am merely mortal.
I’m nearly 49 and feel the sands of time, slipping, effortlessly, steadily, through the neck of the hourglass. It will pass.
It will pass.
I will as well.
I long to taste more, devouring earthly delights, more slowly than before, mindfully with intention. The produce, freshly picked and gently rinsed. My tastebuds awakened to exquisite meals, tasting the rich culture of each culinary endeavor, acknowledging the effort and care granted to each experience.
I would love to fall in love with people again, seeing others captured in a still life photograph, in great detail, picking up the subtleties that make us human. I would like to find my childhood innocence and view people and situations in earnest curiosity and wonderment.
I’d like to lose myself in laughter, titling my head back, twirling under the stars by moonlight. While other times I’d like to sit quietly, listening to the cicadas effortlessly sing their song.
I want to feel the humidity of the Southland engulfing me, beckoning me to take a swim at dusk in a nearby lake, accompanied by crackling campfire.
I’d would love to drive down long stretches of endless backroads at night with someone special by my side, windows rolled down, warm breeze, and blaring music.
And yet, I am merely mortal.
And time doesn’t stop.
I unfortunately fell asleep, as many of us do.
I became wrapped up in what I expected, instead of what actually is.
I don’t regret what I have learned.
I long to live more, and think less, let go, and release.
I am merely mortal.
This will all pass.
And so will I.
It is time to live with more intention and less fear, forgetting the layers that once entrapped and defined me.
I feel an edge of freedom and mystery within me.
I won’t limit myself anymore.
Endless discovery awaits.
I am merely mortal.
And when I fly away, free from my final day, I will do so in fullness.
Soaring endless skies, completely unattached, at one with all I have known.
I’ll slip out of my skin and perhaps I’ll begin again.
I surrender to the disease that has taken so much from me and my family. Although I have not personally been affected by using a substance, your dominion and control over those I love has caused me immense pain, suffering, and grief.
I do, at times, question if it was you alone who caused this level of epic annihilation of family relationships and bonds. I now wonder if ASPD (anti-social personality disorder) also played a role in the ultimate deterioration of my loved ones’ health, causing some to be permanently disabled. This diagnosis has formed in my mouth, many times, as I became more disillusioned at the complete disregard for human life displayed, coupled with the unwillingness to seek help, even when at “rock bottom”.
I realize that manipulation and dishonesty are a part of your control and hold on someone. Their world becomes very small with you in their presence. Access to you consumes their daily thought processes, and you are prioritized above a child’s welfare, a safe home environment, and the health of all involved.
Your power and hold is so strong that you nearly killed my loved one. Yet, they still went crawling back to you. You’ve stripped away their dignity. I have felt completely bewildered by the orchestrated chaos during times of active use, and have been enraged at the willful denial of those unable or unwilling to step into full awareness of the devastation caused by this disease. I have struggled to accept the lies that continue to disempower the young adults who have been given so little and have lost so much as a result of their chaotic and neglectful upbringing.
The dysfunction caused by you, and possibly a personality disorder, has left me isolated and without a family. I no longer feel safe around those I love. I feel my sense of “home” has been stripped of me.
I am ready to let go now and no longer breathe any more oxygen into a space that only leaves me winded, exhausted, and in despair. I know it is time. There is a growing part of me that is excited to walk through the open door and enter into a world that I have built for myself. One that is peaceful and full of people who value me. One where the sand isn’t constantly shifting.
Addiction, you may have taken my family from me, but I am restoring my peace and creating stronger boundaries. You have helped me in ways, in your display of epic dysfunction, realize that I was and am not to blame for the lack of love and commitment denied to me. This loss had very little to do with me in the end. You have reigned supreme for decades, wreaking havoc in the lives of those I loved. I chose to believe that I was to blame. Shouldering the blame made me feel more in control, giving me the false impression that I could behave in ways that would help facilitate change.
I stand corrected. I lay down my sword and walk away from the war that has left me drained and exhausted. I now am fully aware that I can only change myself.
I hate you, addiction.
But, even more than that, I hate the unresolved shame and pain that enables one to use. It’s hard work to heal from the trauma of the past. So many self-soothe in a variety of ways that not only is harmful to themselves, but prevents them from the true intimacy they deserve.
Addiction, You are a tricky bastard, robbing people from the gem that exists within, a lie that alienates them from themselves and others.
Oh, how I have raged at you. I have lost my dignity in your uncontrolled fire. I have stood at the edge, as you engulfed my family in flames, helpless and embittered. I have lost myself trying to save them from your merciless and murderous ways. I have fought tirelessly, watching loved ones lose their freedom, their potential, and even, their minds. I have wept and winced in pain from the despair and desperation of watching those I love become no longer recognizable. They have become shells of their former selves.
Yes, you are a unrelenting and tortuous disease that continually steals the lives and joy of your victims…And you did so with my family. And it made me very sick… for many years.
But, you will not have a victory over my life. I surrender and admit defeat for this chapter. Two decades of being part of your circus is enough. I will miss the dream of having a closer family. Yet, I am ready to accept the reality of “what is” and protect the budding peace and contentment I am finding within myself as a result of practicing self compassion and forgiveness.
Addiction, you have claimed many lives. But, you will not claim mine. I am moving beyond your grasp.
I will always talk honestly about how incredibly sick this disease has made me over the years. I endured chronic pain, anxiety, depression, angry outbursts, suicidal ideation, an exacerbation of my mood disorder, nightmares, etc. I reactively abused those I loved. I became manipulative, at times, in desperation to be visible and get my own needs met. I lost my dignity and was ashamed of how I responded. I lost employment opportunities. My health greatly deteriorated. I was even diagnosed with PTSD. I SUFFERED, IMMENSELY.
Addiction, our relationship is over. I broke up with you in the past, but this time I am going “no contact”. I am redirecting all my time and energy that has been used up “spinning” with you, and investing it in myself.
I look forward to what the future holds. It might be a bit lonely at first, but it won’t be chaotic or devaluing. I won’t be raging or losing my dignity while screaming alone in the dark.
I hope my writing helps others who are struggling in similar ways to not feel so alone. Those in the family who do not use, also need care and support. Many times addiction can seem like an impossible situation. Don’t be too hard on yourself if you haven’t handled it perfectly. I honestly will tell you I have been a mess the past few years. I was consumed by it and was taking on a responsibility that was not mine. I now have realized the complete lack of control I have and am finally releasing the reign it had on my life. It’s a slow process. But, it is possible.
I choose to “hate” addiction, the disease, NOT the addict. My hope will always be that members of my family who are struggling, fully heal. I am trying to do the same.
I know I am getting there. I know how hard it is and how much time it takes. But, I will continue waling towards freedom and peace. And as a result, I will have more of it in my life. It will continue to grow exponentially, until one day, I will look back and the pain of the past will be a distant memory. The present moment will be full of joy, laughter, and connection to healthy people in my life and to peaceful experiences. Quality of life over quantity is my goal going forward. Peace to all. I’m going to keep walking forward!
Intuitively, yet somewhat stubbornly, I acknowledge that forgiveness is the final step in letting go. Begrudgingly, I go there, unwilling to embrace it just yet. I believe freedom is on the other side, however, grief has me paralyzed, a few feet away from the finish line.
Intellectually, I acknowledge that what I feel that I have “lost”, I never truly had. What I am missing, was never mine to begin with, and I’ve been alone all this time. I’ve stood in this space for far too long, it’s what I’ve grown accustomed to, and yet, I’m determined to “let go”. I am shedding the layers of disillusionment, that has kept me entangled in the darkness for so long. I’m seeing more of myself and the definition of my soul is taking shape.
I fought for so long and I demanded so much because I did not want to leave you, nor the hope of reconciliation. I knew it was getting closer to the end, because it has become harder to hang on than to just “let go”. Staying would mean losing more of myself and for what? There is no one standing on the other side, reaching out in compromise to “meet me”.
The difficulty, for me, has been deciding when and how to “sever ties”. I feel torn between cutting ties completely OR providing greater distance, exercising more discipline and restraint when connecting with those who are causing me pain. I’ve tried letting go and I do so for a few weeks to a month only to find myself returning, not completely willing or ready yet to say “goodbye”. This is the space, I feel, that is most agonizing. Looking ahead, I see a clear path with those I love not beside me. There is freedom, but in this first step, I am choking back the tears. There is immense grief in finally laying down the sword, admitting defeat, and acknowledging that the people you have spent so much time “spinning” over, do not “see” you.
I do feel that this battle was never going to be “won”, but surrendering is a victory of self renewal, love, and discovery.
The decision to “go back” and fight, alone, will only lead to greater heartache and loss.
My voice is becoming stronger and I am becoming more resolute towards forging ahead. A part of me knows that it is time to forgive and “let go”.
I might still remain in limited contact with my Mother as I do feel she genuinely loves me. And yet, she has been unwilling to seek help in ways that I feel would demonstrate a true willingness to see the patterns in her behavior that are causing pain for both of us. I will work to forgive all of my family as I do feel it will release me from the pain of remaining engaged. And, I will continue swimming towards separateness, knowing that one day I will find freedom from the trauma that has kept me in captivity for so long.
Today is a new day. Every moment is pregnant with possibility. It is time to separate and invest my time and energy into the projects and people that bring me peace and contentment. This choice will be presented to me over and over again. When I choose to return and get “stuck”, I won’t berate myself as I am learning that doing so only serves to distract me from becoming “unstuck”. I will instead bring my self awareness to why I am returning, honor my grief, and sit in the stillness embracing the feelings I often wish to fight. I will allow myself the space to “break” and cry or get angry. I will then cultivate compassion for myself and I will choose to do differently. Over time, old habits will be replaced with new ones and the feelings generated from these new habits will usher in self awareness and compassion.
I feel it is time to forgive. This doesn’t mean I will allow certain people that have harmed me back into my life. It means I will no longer allow them to occupy the space in my head and heart that keeps me spinning. I will work to acknowledge that these individuals are also hurting in their own ways. I will do my best to honor their struggle by allowing them the space to heal and not getting entangled in their hurt. I will “Let go and Let Be”.
The space I am freeing up will allow me to step more fully into my life and into the present moment. No longer being tied to or even aware of the ongoing drama that is occurring, will free my being from the constant worry and concern of things that are outside of my control.
Today, I lay down the sword.
I sit in the stillness and embrace any emotions of grief that will surely come, letting them pass and wash over me. I will not cling to these thoughts or ride these emotions, abandoning the wisdom that lies in the present moment. I will bring my full attention to the present, engaging with what IS instead of longing for what will never be.
And it will be OK. And in time, it will be better than ok. And this is the long circuitous road of healing, I will keep returning to the present moment.
The birds are chirping outside, my wind is open, and I feel a light, cool breeze. There is newness and life around me always. Today, in this moment, I will choose my peace.
I am ready to walk away from the wreckage that has suffocated and trapped me, like a caged songbird, unable to sing and soar, for so long.
I’m tired of being unhappy and devalued. Living in the shadows of a sociopath that has so much power and influence, my voice has often been muted. My actions are continually misunderstood and I’ve endured years of scapegoating, gaslighting, and character smearing. All because some are unwilling to acknowledge the truth and want to continue living in denial and dysfunction. I grow weary of defending what I know to be true and am often alienated because I confront behavior that I know to be reckless and dangerous, even. Admittedly, I’ve sometimes lost my dignity standing up for those who are truly vulnerable in the family system. Nothing feels worse, to me, than watching people you love who are drowning and having members of your family block you from being able to help them. The helplessness I have felt lead to my own hardening and rage.
Today is a new day. I forgive those who have hurt me and my loved ones and I release any hold they ever had on me. I forgive myself for begging for their love, attention, and time; living in an undignified position for so long.
Healing is not a linear process and I will not be surprised if I continue to slip every now and again. But, I do feel there has been change and growth. My ability to recognize and confront gaslighting when it occurs so that it doesn’t keep me “spinning”, has greatly improved. I also am beginning to “rage” less and express my anger more appropriately. For someone who was not allowed to express anger growing up, these steps are progress for me. As a child, and even well into my adult years, I feared expressing anger and repressed it. I felt and believed that “bucking the system” and expressing anger would place my life at risk. And so, I was denied the expression of it. When I finally began to use my voice, I often raged. There were times I even “blacked out” briefly when raging, not knowing how I got from point A to point B. I hold a lot of anger which is often sadness under the surface. I have an immense amount of grieving to do for what I’ve lost in this lifetime. But, for now…. one day at a time, right? And, I am experiencing many more moments of joy now that I have released some of the pain that I was carrying for so long.
I do have many regrets. I wish I had departed years earlier. I wish I had not tried so hard. I wish I had not moved my life, losing money and resources, to try and support relationships and help loved ones who did not value me. I regret the times I lashed out in anger, but more so regret the effort and energy I expended trying to help those struggling that went unnoticed and unappreciated. It’s not that I needed that much from them, but I sacrificed a lot for so little. And ultimately, all I truly wanted was connection in the end.
There are things I do not regret saying or doing.
I will never regret the times I stood up for the vulnerable children and the disabled adults living in the home. I won’t regret the lessons I’ve learned. I’ve learned to value and love myself and have gained a greater appreciation for my capacity to love and to forgive.
I will never regret confronting the dishonesty, gaslighting, emotional abuse, discarding, and stonewalling that I endured. I realize now that I stayed too long and continued to “rage”. I even grew embittered and jaded for awhile. At times, I admit that I became abusive myself. I do not excuse or justify my own mistakes or abuse. I take full accountability for them and wish I would have done better. I was learning how to let go while still holding on and fighting for those I loved. I knew I was losing the fight as nothing changed in the end. I know it got messy and even ugly, at times. I wish I could have just let people go without raging. Still, I do not regret the times I was able to retain my dignity and stand up for myself.
I am still not the greatest at getting my needs met in relationships. I have always gravitated towards those that use me or who are unhealthy. I can see now looking back how sick I was and that much of how I coped was ineffective. That being said, so many of my relationships have been hopeless. I was drawn to those unwilling to connect and I can see this more than likely developed from a lifetime of always longing, but never being satiated, full, or feeling safe when it came to intimacy and connection. I spent my entire life desiring visibility and connection, only to continue demanding it from those who were unwilling to provide it in the way I needed. There were always excuses and justifications as to why connection wasn’t realized. Often, I was blamed for wanting too much. This caused a lot of self loathing, anxiety, and insecurity. It took time for me to believe that I actually wasn’t getting my needs met and it wasn’t my fault. I was not asking for too much, nor was I ever “too much”. It took years of analyzing the behavior of my loved ones to garner the proof I needed to finally understand that those around me were truly struggling and sick in their own way. I spent years trying to convince them to get help to no avail.
The most difficult lesson in all of this was realizing that I had to let go of the dream of ever having a family that was close-knit. I don’t feel a part of my family. They don’t know who I am anymore and they often deny my pain and struggle related to the dysfunction, neglect, and abuse. It has become too hard for our two very different perceptions of the past and present to sit in the same space. I have tried for too many years and I am exhausted, sad, and even in chronic pain from the continual conflict and grief. I know what I have to do and I am taking the steps to do it.
I honestly think I am at the apex of acceptance. I can see looking back that I was unwilling to fully accept the reality that I wasn’t going to have what I wanted in this lifetime.
I wanted a close-knit family.
Because, I was unable to have children, I wanted to be a part of my sister’s grandchildren’s lives.
I wanted my nieces and nephews to heal from their upbringing and be healthy.
I wanted my marriage to work out. When it didn’t, I wanted my second significant relationship to work out.
I wanted to completely recover from the mental health struggles I live with, and instead, I now have additional diagnoses and am living on disability.
I wanted to date again and find true love. I simply want to love someone and be loved in return.
I wanted to have success in my career. I became to sick a few years ago and had to get onto disability so that I could take the time to recover as well as have a continuity of care. I am still struggling to get all my medical needs met (particularly with the pandemic).
I wanted to have a home one day and financial stability. This looks unlikely, but who knows?
And so, some of the above may not ever be realized. I am determined to start small.
Forgive myself. Forgive others.
Live in the present.
Enjoy what simple pleasures the day offers.
Stretch and sing more.
Do more of what makes me happy and joyful.
Set realistic goals and celebrate achieving them.
I am no longer in a race against others, nor will I compare myself to their successes or struggles.
I am me. I am ok. I am enough. And, most importantly, I am healing.
It is hard work. It is a process. And, the journey along the way is more precious and profound than any destination point a long the way.
I’ll be posting from time to time these moments of JOY. That is what I want my focus to be on in the end.
I accept what I have lost, but will do my best to no longer dwell on it, losing more precious time.
The following are pics from a little trip I took to Boulder City, NV and Hoover Dam. This area, along with a few others, are places I am considering moving to in time. Life is taking another turn. This time, I want my eyes to be wide open and my heart less heavy!
With the use Storyblocks.com for video clips and music, I have adapted an earlier post of mine to include a short video, using my voice as the narrator. Original post was written on May 26, 2019 and is copied below. I hope you enjoy!
This is Our time: Fast, Fleeting, and magnificent
This is our time. It will be fast and fleeting, yet magical and magnificent. We will always be moving about, passing by one another, while we occupy the greater space that holds us here with gravity. We were thrust here and pushed into the brightness, piercing the new air with the cry of a new born baby. Soon after, the process of imprinting began as the multiple layers of “our time” carved out an identity, giving our form meaning and definition. Unable to escape “our time”, we have moved through it, often embracing it as we stumble through life with discovery and delight.
This is our time. In this time of technology, information is shared instantly and in exponential quantities. Unlike in the past, we have a greater ability to connect with one another, and yet, this saturation and quality of connection is often times eroding relationships, leaving us feeling alienated and alone. Many of us living right now remember life without the use of a computer or cell phone. We reminisce of a life that was not digitized. Polaroid cameras, rotary phones, typewriters, 8 tracks, etc. are all things of the past, but still are very much alive in our collective memory. If were to take a snapshot of those living right now, some still with us can remember a time when they would gather around the radio in the evening for entertainment. Others will share they have never known life without the existence of a smart phone. In this same beautiful space, we have a young child singing “baby shark” while sitting on the lap of her great Grandfather who fought in WWII. And in this slice of life, we have a time that we can call “our own”. You and I are here, together, muddling through this thing called life.
In this time that is ours, we are alive and active, making history while altering the planet as we know it. Some of us will live quiet lives that may seem to go unnoticed. Others of us may influence our communities and impact the lives of those around us. And still yet, there will be the trailblazers whose existence shapes the zeitgeist of “our time”. Even so, as sure as our world turns and the sun rises and sets, it is “our time” to be alive, to breathe, to learn, and to love. And there is no other time for us, but right now, which is pregnant with possibility.
This is truly our time. As we dwell together under the starry skies, we’ll indulge in what the planet has to offer us in the way of natural wonders, culinary endeavors, and cultural practices. Many of us will venture outside of our comfort zones to explore lands that are foreign to us. In our limited time here together, we might sometimes take for granted the extensive and affordable ways in which we can travel. Some of us will travel extensively for work and/or pleasure and our appreciation for diversity among landscapes, culture, and people will grow, leading to a very rich life no matter our monetary worth.
During this time together on earth, we’ll experience heartache and disappointment. We will all start at different places with different experiences as well as different abilities and strengths. We may get swept up in activities or with people that take us away from ourselves, becoming lost. Some who lose their way will resurface after a steady climb into awareness, self forgiveness, and self love. There will be birthdays, marriages, births, and deaths. And during these times we will know joy, elation, contentment, pain, and possibly even suffering. We will, at times, feel alone and overwhelmed. We may fear death and getting older. And yet, in this time that we are here together, there will be times that we feel truly alive. In this space, when you and I are sharing the same air and earth, it will be our energy and endeavors that define “our time”. I’d like to think that in my lifetime people will turn towards one another with acknowledgement that we, “humanity”, are nothing short of amazing, possessing the potential to connect in endless ways. I believe this is already occurring in less organized ways on various social media sites, but feel we are really just now embarking on this journey of increased awareness and connection.
The desire of humanity to connect is what is fueling so much of the development of technology. Interestingly enough, it has opened up a window for many to have a glimpse of the world, exposing people to different cultures and ideas. This can only bring us closer, providing people with the knowledge to break barriers and facilitate not only tolerance, but concern and caring. This level of exposure to one another and to other cultures around our world is defining us. It may be the perfect tool in time to harness the collective energy to care for our planet and the creatures that inhabit it.
This is OUR TIME! It’s going to go fast, I’m afraid. I’m nearly 47 and I’ll soon be sliding into my fifties like a baseball players slides into home base. I’ve been living it hard, making mistakes, and often becoming distracted. I feel like I’ve turned around once and here I am, older, with some back problems and less energetic than I used to be. I’ve lost loved ones, fallen in love a few times and have went through the painful process of letting go. I’ve turned inward, at times, in depression and tried to ignore the brutality of the world, sheltering myself from a few storms in my life. But, I’m still here, along with you and so many others and this is it!!
We have absolutely no choice in how we entered the world and we will not have a choice in how we leave it. Some do take their own lives, but it is my belief that to do so is part of an illness, not a choice. So, while we are here breathing, living, and loving, take time to feel the amazing energy and pulse that is US! It truly is OUR TIME and I hope one day before it is the end, I see you in passing, strolling about, tilting your head back in laughter, at your friend beside you. Maybe you are in that group posing in front of some national monument, trying to get the perfect selfie. Or could that be you, a child jumping in the waves with delight? Or the older couple, holding hands on a park bench? I believe it is all of us. We are more alike than different, and it is OUR TIME. I hope you are enjoying it!
What piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god!
This past year has been truly difficult for me. Election years in America seem nearly intolerable anymore, with hate and division sewn on both sides that have often left me feeling hopeless and “small”. Many times I feel as though people are talking over one another, belittling others, and even engaging in bullying behavior. Admittedly, I have, at times, engaged in these fruitless pursuits. But, many more times than not, I end up deleting my post or comments entirely, especially if it gains traction. It just doesn’t seem to be worth the energy to argue as I often wind up feeling defeated and even downright depressed.
This last year has been particularly hard for me. The rhetoric, tension, and dysfunction displayed on social media, parallels the narcissistic abuse I have been disengaging from in my own life. As many others, my leisure options have been somewhat limited due to the restrictions placed on our city to mitigate the spread of the coronavirus. Boredom sets in and I become restless, seeking stimulation on-line. The division and animosity felt on both sides leads me to retreating again and again, with a greater commitment each time to not “engage” anymore. But, I would be amiss to not share some of the observations I’ve made and what I’ve learned by disengaging.
Ultimately, and even oddly, this year has mirrored so much of what is occurring in my own personal life. I was diagnosed a few years ago with PTSD and this year has triggered my trauma while at the same time, providing the space and time to address it. The year 2020 has seemingly pushed me to my breaking point and forced me to deal with some of the harder emotions I had tried in the past to “stuff” and ignore. It’s been more challenging to distract myself when I’ve spent more time alone than ever before. As challenging as it has been for me to maintain stability in my mental health, I feel I’ve grown immensely during this time and have actually relied even more so on different and new ways to cope.
Here are some of the ways the political division and the coronavirus pandemic have impacted my mental health and the ways in which I am coping.
Becoming more aware of how stress is impacting my physical and emotional health. This year has allowed me to practice the skill of being more mindful and present. As a result of many businesses being shuttered, and having “less on my plate”, I have been able to slow down a bit and take notice of how stress is impacting my body. Being on social media with others during a time of less distraction, has allowed me to understand how unresolved conflict and the outward expression of it, causes an exacerbation of my symptoms of depression and anxiety. I began making the connection between the unhealthy relationships in my life and the impact they were having on my health. This has taught me to disengage more, not just on-line, but also with those in my life who are unhealthy for me.
Acknowledging when to disengage and practice self care. This last year has been difficult to witness. I can remember watching the first presidential debate and cringing. I couldn’t bring myself to actually “look” at the TV. The constant interruptions and “talking over one another” put me on edge and I found myself staring at the floor, almost feeling like I was the one being berated and criticized. I had to turn off the TV after a few minutes, because it was actually unsettling, and even triggering, to me in the end. Watching the debates kinda reminded me of the calm before the storm in my own life. The times I allowed too much from others, then later found myself swept up in emotion, raging. The constant on-line bickering also felt like a personal assault to me. I realized how toxic the on-line environment was and became more aware of certain negative patterns in my own life. This lead me to the process of disengaging and spending more time practicing self-care. This has allowed me to more quickly recognize my triggers and disengage earlier.
Acknowledging when relationships are truly hopeless, letting go, and redirecting my time and energy to worthwhile pursuits. The political divide, I feel, has mirrored, in ways, my own personal struggled with those in my life who often are not interested in compromise, yet still hold some level of power or influence in the lives of those I love. As a person who lives on disability insurance, I do not hold a lot of power in society, and voices like mine can often easily be muted or “drowned out”. The limited scope of power, both in my personal life and politically, has taught me to set stronger boundaries in order to protect and preserve my energy so that I can make a difference where I realistically can. Setting boundaries with myself and others and engaging in self-care, and not feeling guilty for doing so, has been a lesson I have learned during this time. Certain relationships are hopeless. Much like the futile attempts on-line to change someone’s political opinion, I have learned to just “let go” instead.
Election years are tough anymore. And this past one, coupled with a global pandemic, provided the space, time, and conflict to usher in a few “life lessons”. Even though it has been tough, I am grateful for what I have learned. I spent more time getting to know myself and was able to grow emotionally and spiritually during a time of turmoil. Life can be difficult and even painful, at times. With 2020 behind me, I feel like I have a few more tools in my toolbox as far as knowing how to disengage, set better boundaries for myself, and invest in endeavors that provide personal growth and contentment.
What lessons did 2020 teach you? Did you find yourself able to make some changes in your life that helped you, big or small? I definitely feel the the past year was a turning point. I’ve turned more towards myself and this has helped me to manage and cope with the symptoms of my PTSD. Here’s to hoping this year brings even more light and and self-love to everyone’s journey of healing!
The last few years have been particularly difficult for me. I’ve had to disengage from my family due to their struggle with severe and persistent addiction. My sister and all of her adult children have struggled for more than a decade with substance abuse issues, causing severely strained relationships, disability, and even the recent loss of custody of my two great nephews.
I wrote the letter below to help me process the pain of essentially losing my family to the very serious and deadly disease of addiction. Two of my family members are now disabled with severe and persistent mental illness due to their use of methamphetamines. None of my nieces and nephews are employed, nor did any of them receive their high school diplomas. My mother and I are no longer in communication because her denial and enabling over the years has fractured our relationship. I’ve had to disengage and take a break so that I can heal and begin to recover from the loss.
Addiction truly is a family disease and it affects everyone in the family. I have found Nar-Anon to be a valuable resource for support and information for family members struggling to cope and heal with the presence of addiction in the family. Nar-Anon, adapted from Narcotics Anonymous, is a worldwide group whose members are family and friends who are concerned about a loved one’s struggle with substance abuse. Here is their website: https://www.nar-anon.org.
I hate what you have done to those I love. You’ve taken their lives and ruthlessly thrown them into the fire, watching them burn, with indifference. You truly are the living embodiment of hell on earth.
I loathe the day you waltzed in promising my sister that you would make things so much better for her. Rolling out the red carpet, giving her the royal treatment, and romancing her so she would get hooked. All the lies you fed her, knowing that when it was all said and done, another soul would be stolen and another victim, left, scrambling, sweating, sick on the floor, begging for more. All the times you gave her and others the false impression that they could easily let go of you, when and if they desired, knowing that your physical dependence would imprison & enslave them.
I hate the power you hold over those I love, and what they gave up when you finally secured a place in their soul. They gave up their identity and called themselves “addicts”, enslaving themselves to a lifetime of using and shame. You don’t deserve those victimized by you. You’re not only taking lives, you’re robbing millions of their potential and peace. Their waking hours are spent fixated on you, and how to remain in your “good graces”. Some will steal, lie, and destroy relationships to maintain your presence in their lives.
I hate what you do to families, ripping them apart. I hate that your destruction causes bewilderment and confusion, leaving people uncertain whether to confront or enable. Often, children, affected by your disease, will defend you and may even grow up somewhat complacent and numb to the chaos you have created. You sit back waiting, chomping at the bits to claim another victim. Children, raised in an environment where you reign, are particularly vulnerable.
You tell your victim lies, entrapping them in shame and self-loathing, many times causing them to discard their loved ones who confront their drug use. You mock those who are to trying to keep your victims safe. Those screaming in the distance are muted by the noise you cause, that continually deafens and disorients your victim.
I hate you for destroying my family bonds. As the flames grew higher, and the devastation reached epic proportions, some of us screamed louder, while others have enabled more and shrunk back in denial. I’ve screamed so much that my voice has become hoarse, hitting a brick wall, reverberating around this dark chamber that has become all too familiar. I’ve been sent to the dungeon, cold and alone, by the loved ones who you have claimed as your victims. Nothing penetrates the walls you’ve built, keeping the victim in a vicious cycle, enslaving them, encouraging them to justify their actions that serve you, and you alone. You’ll have your victim admit that they are powerless, but your allure will entice them to forever stand close to the fire. The fire is never entirely extinguished. I have become disillusioned and have danced around the flames, sometimes raging, and other times desperately trying to reach you. And you discard me once again.
Through the years of my experience knowing you, I have doubted my own reality. I have looked through the eyes of the victim and no longer know if it is you or my sister that I am staring at and this devastates me. Her adult kids have now all been touched by your fire and are struggling as we speak.
If one ever tries to cut ties with you, you hold on like a bitch with nails, clinging, taking the life out of them. You torture them with beatings and lashings, as they hurl you from their body, clinging to the toilet, and sinking on the floor, sweating. “I’ll teach you never to leave me!” You snarl and spit in their face, sometimes hijacking their minds with hallucinations and delusional thinking.
And when the dust settles, there is stillness. And then, there is the dealing with the aftermath while the cravings for you are forever present, occupying a permanent space in the victim’s mind. Addiction, I hate you.
And, if all of this is not enough, your victims wear the label of “addict”, having to rebuild, often ashamed and remorseful. There are some who have been sitting at your table for so long they have lost themselves. Your presence can cause changes to the brain that may lower empathy and create cognitive issues. I am perpetually oscillating between the extremes of trying to help and becoming angry and aggressively confronting . I am seen as harsh and cruel, when really I am sad and scared. I have become an indirect victim, my moods and perceptions often altered by this deadly, intoxicating dance.
Because of you, I am letting go of my family. Not just my sister, and her family, but my mother as well. It’s getting too hard to keep trying, only to be devalued and discarded. The pain has become too intolerable for my mother. She compensates with enabling and denial which only serves to further isolate me, while those I love become increasingly more sick. I sometimes lose my dignity in anger and rage, saying things I know will only cause me more shame and sadness. I begin to wonder and fear if some victims ever reach full recovery from you.
Your reign in my life is over. I have truly tried to save my sister and her kids from your very ugly, abusive ways, but it is up to them to ride this dangerous storm out and do what is necessary to seek help and change. I will remain hopeful that they one day they have the strength and perseverance to eradicate you from every inch of their lives. You have absolutely no place in mine. I will be more healthier in the end, letting go, healing, and remaining available, when and if any are ready to heal.
I’ve learned that those who leave you, must be the one to cut ties. No one can do it for them. I hope to one day stand on the other side of you, with my family, free from the pain and suffering you’ve created.
Sometimes saying, “I am sorry” isn’t “good enough”. Especially, when those words have beed dropped so effortlessly from your tongue, with no context, nor an explanation as to why, and with no observable change in behavior that follows.
I grow weary of hearing, “I’m sorry”. I grow nauseated of being reminded how many times it’s been uttered from you.
There comes a time in life when you realize the one holding the key to the heavy shackles weighing you down is yourself. It then becomes, a conscious decision to unlock the shackles binding you and fling them to the ground, thus freeing yourself from the chains that have kept you in bondage for so long. For years, we may have not even known we possessed the key. And even after the discovery, it can be years after that until we are willing to let go of the comfort of the old patterns and beliefs that have captivated us for so long.
Once the shackles fall, with a loud thud on the ground below, there is more work to do. If we are not careful, we will get swept up in the layers of sadness, even despair, that is stagnating in the dense air surrounding us. We’ll find ourselves choking on it, biting back the tears, wishing we could of somehow managed to save and savor what we sacrificed years trying to obtain. No amount of effort would have saved what we lost. Often times, we discover it was never truly “ours” in the first place. Perhaps, what we so desperately desired was to commune with ourselves and to preserve the dignity that we lost when we weren’t yet ready “to let go”. The depth of what we sensed was missing in our lives is nearly equal to the space we need to fill completely with ourselves. This is where and how we turn the page.
And, at times, it feels like the heaviest and hardest page to turn. We agonize over the next chapter, with trepidation and uncertainty, fearing that what we accepted in the past must surely be so much larger and better than what could ever discover for ourselves in the future. Even when the times in our past were lonely or painful, it can be still difficult to “let go”. Looking back, there were surely times that were spent stuck, in limbo, grieving what was lost in the past and worrying about what may or may not transpire in the future.
Even so, in this space of “limbo”, we are learning. And we are, at times, becoming swept up again by the inaction of others, allowing their “story” to take precedent in our lives while we take a “back seat”. Maybe the larger fear is the responsibility gained when success is achieved. For some, maybe that prevents them from going forward. Have we become so used to “falling short” that the mere idea of success becomes paralyzing? Even so, there is something pushing us forward. Change happens. It is the one constant we can acknowledge. Nothing remains the same in the end. I’d like to embrace change fully as it’s overtly apparent to me at the moment that everything has drastically shifted. Not just in my personal life, but also on a global scale. And I would even say, on a spiritual level.
As of late, I have been “showing up” in my life, sometimes even fighting mad. I’m no longer willing to accept an apology that is not followed by action. I definitely will not entertain one when I have to continue to “ask for it”. My boundaries are becoming stronger and my tolerance for abuse in any form: gaslighting, shift-blaming, dishonestly, manipulation, discarding, etc. has reached its limit. ENOUGH. Even with members of my family, I have now “cut ties” and have “walked away”. This has been difficult. But, again, I had for years sacrificed so much of my time, energy, and space for people who gave little to nothing to me. To people who were complacent and remained silent, or even, at times, defended or protected those who were harming me and others who I love.
And so, I will “let go”. And I intend to keep walking. I remind myself, in leaving, that I have already proven in a past romantic relationship, when I felt I wasn’t strong enough to leave, that I am capable of doing so. That relationship has been over for 4 years. In fact, once the coronavirus is defeated, I feel ready to date again. I took the time to heal and am excited about the future.
It has taken me a few years “to turn the page” and believe my story as well as reclaim my dignity. I’ve stopped engaging in the fabricated world they create to justify their mistreatment of me. I actually sincerely feel pity and sorrow for those so lost and separated from themselves that they continually hurt others by denying intimacy and truth in their lives. The time I spent trying with them was fruitless in that the relationship was never repaired, but I did grow immensely from the experience.
Loving thyself is actually is being honest and real with oneself. There is no denial of one’s imperfections or mistakes. Self-loathing during difficult times when rejected or mistreated, is now being replaced with practicing self compassion and forgiveness. It is trying harder to set firm boundaries and acknowledging that this is “hard stuff” to learn so “late in life”. It is being kind and gentle with myself.
And so, the page turns. Not always with ease. Sometimes, with hot and salty tears, grieving what I feel should have been “mine”.
We all deserve love, protection, honesty, intimacy, human touch, compassion, laughter, joy, light-heartedness, to feel safe, etc. Sometimes, it becomes necessary to cultivate these things for yourself. Once that is accomplished, there is a deep sense of mastery in life whereby relapses, triggered by rejection or other incidents outside of our control, become easier to manage and the duration shorter. Life will still have its difficult days, but you’ll be less likely to be moved from “the center” that you cultivated over time that is “yours”.
I’m still active in this journey towards wholeness and healing. I still have both good and bad days. I feel I bounce back more quickly and am more “separate”, allowing for distance and space between myself and those who have harmed me. That space provides peace, and even, joy, at times.
I hope this New Year finds you focused on your well-being, safety, and healing. Much joy and light along your path. We are all just trying to find our way. We all hold a deep reservoir of love, peace, joy, and light within us. May all of these things grow within you this year. That is my hope for myself and you! Thanks for reading!
The following video is one I created using an older blog post and stock images from Storyblocks.com. I am new to this process, but decided to go ahead and share. I am hoping to develop my skills in creating videos and then post them to YouTube, as well as my blog.
This post is about letting go and forgiving both the self and others after surviving trauma. I have lived through the childhood trauma of being molested at the tender age of 4 by a next-door neighbor. In my adult life, I have lived through two abusive relationships, one with someone I had planned to marry and another with my nuclear family. The video below takes a post that I wrote a few years back, and uses the imagery of a snowstorm as a metaphor of letting go and forgiving, thus becoming “lighter in life”. Snow always covers up the rougher edges of life and instills calm and peace. I hope you enjoy!
That’s me above, and my pup, Gracie. This picture was taken nearly 5 years ago while I was still working. I was living in Seattle, WA at the time, and working in a long term facility as a recreation therapist (CTRS). And, trust me, even while donning a huge smile, I was severely anxious and struggling!
Since then, I’ve been approved for SSDI and have been focusing on rebuilding my health, one day at a time. My hope is to live gracefully with my illnesses of: Bipolar I, PTSD, ADHD, OCD, and PMDD. I have learned to accept my illness and am acquiring new skills and approaches to cope more effectively.
The suffering I’ve endure related to my mental illness has been amplified by the stigma and the shame surrounding it. It has taken me years to separate myself from the symptoms that my illness has caused and the stigma that is perpetuated by those who lack the awareness and sensitivity to understand my struggle. The shame I feel from having an illness has significantly decreased over time, as I have worked to cultivate acceptance and compassion for my struggle.
The “stigma and shame” surrounding the “suffering” can, at times, exacerbate the severity of my illness. It has taken years of healing to separate the “suffering” from the “stigma” and the “shame” that often accompanies mental illness. I share in the following paragraphs how the suffering, which is often biological for me, has been impacted by the stigma I’ve faced, which inadvertently causes shame. Being able to see these as independent from one another, has allowed me to move further along in my healing process.
What do I mean by my “suffering”?
My “suffering” is my life-long struggle with an illness that causes chemical changes in my brain that are often difficult for me to manage and control. I never chose to be mentally ill, not for a certain time period, or even for a day! In fact, my illness began when I was in the “prime” of my life! I was captain and MVP of the swim team, had a leading role in the school musical, and was well supported by my friends and church. Like many others who struggle, I was active and involved prior to the onset of my mental illness. My illness began around my sophomore year, and it crept along, gaining momentum, until one day it was painfully obvious to others that something was just “not right”. In my case, my struggle presented itself as a combination of symptoms that included: obsessive & intrusive thoughts, delusions, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and disassociation. I was acutely aware that my thought processes were somewhat “off” and I decided, on my own, to seek treatment. It was unsettling to me at the time and caused me much distress.
I have often made the comparison that my “suffering” is much like having an onslaught of bad “side effects” to a prescribed medication, except that the symptoms are often more severe than that of side effects and the onset and duration of symptoms can be unpredictable and uncertain. For example, too much caffeine may cause some to experience symptoms comparable to mild mania in that they may be: edgy, anxious, irritable, energetic, even euphoric, etc. Their mind might even race and they may feel overly optimistic about what they can accomplish. Depression can feel somewhat like taking too much Benadryl for an allergy attack: one can feel foggy, exhausted, excessively sleepy, and withdrawn. In drawing these comparisons, I am trying to help a person who doesn’t suffer understand that the symptoms are not only biological, like side effects that must wear off, but they are also difficult to “snap out off”. Unfortunately, for the sufferer, it is not as easy as discontinuing a medication to stop the unwanted side effects.
Thus, my “suffering” is a lot like clipping along and doing “ok” and then being suddenly blindsided by a cycle of unwanted “side effects” in which there is no escape. Sounds like a personal hell, right? It is. This is the suffering that most people (unless they experience it) do not understand, while some others do not even acknowledge. Medication and other approaches (mediation, therapy, etc.) can sometimes alleviate or decrease symptoms, but many of us suffer for years, on and off, endlessly trying to “escape” a chemical imbalance that causes the illness.
Unfortunately, because mental illness is often misunderstood, I’ve had to “suffer” in world that stigmatizes and shames those struggling. There are many people that question the validity of mental illness and have unfair and unrealistic expectations of those struggling. I can remember being released from my first hospital stay and friends laughing at me or telling me I just need to “snap out of it”. I even had a counselor in college who told me, I needed to “pull my boots straps up, and try harder”. Obviously, this caused me immense shame as I blamed myself when I struggled to control my moods or manage my level of anxiety. This compounded my anxiety and depression as I felt ostracized from others and would resort to “self-loathing” when my illness became episodic and I couldn’t “snap out of it”. I often blamed myself and became more alienated. I was diagnosed before the internet was in existence and couldn’t reach out to “social media” or on-line groups for support.
Often people who have a mental illness feel that they must hide their struggle from the workplace, for fear of retaliation. I remember after being initially diagnosed in the early 90’s with Bipolar 1, I was told to “hide” my diagnosis from others, particularly in the workplace. This only served to ramp up my anxiety as I struggled to keep everything “sucked in” and hidden from view. I have even lost jobs and experienced discrimination in the workplace when requesting help in the form of accommodations. My struggle was often viewed as not credible and I was seen as a “troublemaker” or an “attention seeker”.
The stigma surrounding those struggling with a psychiatric disorder, often prevents people getting help in the workplace and seeking treatment. The effects of stigma can be devastating and can mean job losses and access to adequate care. Many of the failures stemming from those suffering are not the fault of the individual struggling, but of the inadequate and unjust system that perpetuates stigma and negative stereotypes.
The stigma can lead to a deep level of shame. Without others having the awareness and/or sensitivity of my illness, of which I felt I had to “hide”, there were times I was misunderstood. I might have been seen as haughty or short when I had to disappear quickly to manage an escalating panic attack. I may have been viewed as uninterested or unmotivated on a day when I was struggling with my depression. My symptoms were often misinterpreted as my personality, and this caused me conflicts with others. In time, I could see clearly that my illness had robbed me of my potential in the workplace, but NOT of my talent, motivation, experience, or passion. It was often how I decompensated during times of stress, due to my illness, that wrecked me. And my frantic efforts to to feign “normalcy” only exacerbated things, until I just “quit” abruptly, or began missing too much work.
These lived experiences of struggling, experiencing stigma, and then feeling shame, ultimately caused me to respect my illness, for what it truly is: a devastating biological illness that affects my mood and perceptions which is often visibly seen through my behaviors. I began to see the distinction between myself, when I am suffering, and myself when I am not. I started to challenge myself in the midst of my suffering to let go of the shame that I had relating to my behavior when sick. I could see that focusing on the negative behaviors that arise during an episode, often served to keep me hooked in a cycle of shame and regret. Instead, I decided to give the illness the respect it deserved and I spent time finding ways to aggressively fight it and keep it at bay.
If you are like me, if will more than likely rear its ugly head again, but this time when it does, I have decided to forgive myself, instead of lamenting the mistakes made when chained against my will, and suffering with a serious mental illness. Now, I get busy working to “get ahead” of the next episode. I’ve decided to be like a hunter and become skilled at tracking it down, intercepting it, hopefully before it escalates too much. And even, if I become ill, and things “get messy”, I quickly return to practicing self compassion and respecting the chronic mental illness that I live with that takes immense effort to manage effectively.
I’ve learned through a lot of years of tears and immense pain, that I don’t have to be ashamed anymore. I also acknowledge that many people are going to misunderstand my illness and there is only so much I can do to educate and inform others. My hope is through writing I can help others better understand what it has been like struggling now for nearly 32 years with a severe and persistent mental illness. And, I am immensely proud of the courage and persistence I espouse, despite the often insurmountable odds I’ve faced living in a world that is still sometimes not accepting or sensitive to my struggle. I hope this helps others. If it does, I am even more grateful for what I’ve lived through and survived.